Face to Face
by Idiom Laurels
Summary: Happy birthday, Dentri Tomiko! -Akira muses in lieu of sleep on the defeat handed to him by Hikaru. Kinda HxA-ish.


A/N: Here is yet another birthday fanfic for a friend of mine, Dentri Tomiko. It may have taken a while, but I'm still early! So, well, I'm just babbling.... Oh, and although it isn't _exactly _a romance, if you're reading this, just know that I adore Hikaru/Akira pairings.

_Hikaru no Go_ belongs to its owner, who, unfortunately, isn't me.

-

**_Face to Face._**

-

There are many different kinds of night. Sometimes the moon is hidden behind the clouds and the smoke, trapping the earth in total darkness. Sometimes not a single star can be seen. And sometimes the moon shines full and bright, revealing another side to the world, a world full of shadows.

Touya Akira turned in his bed and struggled against his sheets, mattress and pillows to find a more comfortable position. But he knew it was all done in vain. His discomfort only came from the thoughts plaguing his mind, refusing to let him rest and to relax.

If he couldn't be the best then who would look up to him? No one cares who's in second place. Nobody plans their future hoping and dreaming to be in the shadow of another, never reaching full potential... failing.

The thought that an amateur defeated him was too upsetting a thought. After all the work he has put into his passion, after all the nights he stayed awake thinking over lessons, all that time spent improving, only to be defeated by someone who didn't care, and who put little to no effort into it.

This was much different a problem for Akira this night, however. It wasn't about go; it wasn't about school; it wasn't about becoming professional, the best. All he could think about was that smug expression on the boy's face, the fact that he didn't seem to think over his moves, and why it bothered him so _much_.

He put all he had into each game, all emotion, making each and every play a showing of personality, character, of himself. But Hikaru so easily defeated him, even when seeming to put so little into the game. Did that mean Hikaru was so much the person Akira wasn't? Was Hikaru that much better? If he could be so good without the practice Akira devoted himself to so completely, then would Akira ever catch up to him?

The thought haunted him, and he gripped the bed sheets tightly between his fingers. He squeezed it more tightly, hoping to relieve some of his built up emotion.

Was he angry at Hikaru for practically disgracing the game? Was he jealous of Hikaru's ability? Was he doubting of his own self, who he was to become? Was he excited to take on the challenge Hikaru's strength proposed?

No matter which, it made Akira want to become better, stronger than Hikaru. He wanted to surpass even Hikaru's ability. And he would not give up until their rematch, until he defeated him!

Akira couldn't help but feel a little better. Just the thought of Hikaru was inspiration enough to make him rethink his game play, and he felt as though each and every lesson was freshly learned, just waiting for him to try it out.

He wanted to play more than ever.

He would defeat Hikaru in hopes that when he did, Hikaru would take on the same thoughts and feelings he did now. Hikaru would become stronger, too. Silent rivalry would break, and together they would become great.

His defeating Hikaru would push his rival to become better just as much as it would him, and for that, Akira was almost grateful.

He just needed to climb a little higher, be a tad more skilled, so that he may rival Hikaru's talent perfectly.

They would battle it out again, that was certain. Sitting across from each other, being on different sides, fighting for different reasons, but nonetheless, Akira could always look his opponent in the eye, and see that same determination burning in Hikaru.

Although it would be difficult, although it may not happen, and although it would take time... he would try to become better, if only a little. And having someone to push you along, encouraging you without so many vexing cheers and calls, with just a momentary glance into their eyes and a glimpse at the passion behind them, the emotion being put into that game you share and play together, is inspiring.

"Maybe he does care," Akira mused to himself quietly, with his head buried between his pillow and those confounded sheets. "...Just a little."

-End-


End file.
